


The Drizzles drabble

by 36degreecelcius



Category: History (Band)
Genre: Drizzles, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/36degreecelcius/pseuds/36degreecelcius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The drizzling rain had made the entire street wet and dim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drizzles drabble

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble I wrote on my phone today, wishing it would rain somehow.

The drizzling rain had made the entire street wet and dim.

A thin layer of fog floated and covered the concrete sidewalks, along with the occasional breeze that blew every here and there, sending the cold up the street walkers' spines. Countless umbrellas, white, decorated with rain drops that became shiny when street lights touched them, moved with the crowd's flow, forming a weird, ceiling-like coverage that protected the people from the cold drizzle. Breathes became smoke-white, and the street looked rather like a river flow, moving silently under the rain.

Dokyun's jet-black umbrella finally made its way through the crowded areas and towards the narrow path that led to his residence.

There were charcoal-grey concrete walls  that surrounded the alley, blocking away the outside world. The only thing Dokyun hated about them was that they stopped right at the entrance of a graveyard, and he wouldn't be able to help himself but took a look inside.

And, as it had happened every time it rained, among the gravestones and the rotten-green grass, surrounded by the drizzling drops, there he was; a tall, faceless man in his black suit, standing still as if he was one of the decorating statues, his pale-white hands placed in front of him. He always gave Dokyun the creeps.

"You're always here when it rains," Dokyun pointed out, walking towards the other before standing himself on the man's side as if they had been long-time friends. In reality, truth be told, it had only been a week.

"Do you like rain?" he asked, not expecting an answer, though.

"..."

"I love it, you know, it gives out the chill and chases away the sun," he peeked out of his black umbrella as he spoke, the sky was light-grey.

"Sunlight gives me headache."

"..."

Dokyun sighed. "Too bad, though, doctors said I should avoid walking in the rain; my body is not that strong against viruses."

"..."

"They say if I ever catch a fever, or even a cold, it might ruin all my attempts during the passed week," he brought his fingers up to massage his eyelids, dark bruises surrounded the area like molded bread.

"Well, I guess it's begun collapsing already."

The other remained silent, yet, this time, the faceless face turned Dokyun's direction. His skin was so pale it went against his costumes, even his hair, peeking out only a little from his jasper-black hat, also contradicted his flesh. The opposite hues had made every inch of this man seemed unreal, yet the closed distance between the two reminded Dokyun of the other's very existence.

And he didn't know whether he should be happy, or sad.

The rain continued to drizzle, like an opague curtain that separated the soaked body and the bathroom's clean, dry floor. Dokyun did not return the gaze, though he did feel a little more comfortable that at least the other could move, that he wasn't talking to a statue.

"...Do you have a name?" he finally asked.

"..."

"Come on, I've been seeing you for a week, I deserve to know something!" His tone turned a little bit like that of a selfish child, and, automatically, he folded his arms like one.

It took a few minutes before a surprisingly soft, low voice replied.

"...Sihyoung."

"!" Dokyun almost jumped, instinctively turned towards the other, his widened eyes stared in disbelief.

"...Wow, I was expecting a piece of paper with some weird handwritings on."

"..."

"...Uh...that's it? After all this time it's this easy to get you to talk?"

"..."

He gave the other an awkward smile. "...But, um...well, thank you for telling me, Si-"

But all of a sudden the paper-white fingers touched his lips, silencing him, and the voice, deep as the dark ocean, interrupted. "No."

"..."

"...Not today."

The flesh on his lips felt cold, like a rusty piece of metal in the rain. Dokyun's dark eyes focused on the emptiness on the other's face, confusion flashed across his pupils, yet he was not searching for answers as he already had it in mind. He had always knew it wouldn't be today, but tomorrow.

The sky remained smoke-grey, but the rain had already become smaller drops. The sound of them hitting Dokyun's black umbrella echoed in the silence around them.

No more words needed to be said, but Dokyun just wanted to be reassured.

"...Will I see your face tomorrow?" he asked, although, as he spoke, the other was already gone. He tightened his grip on his umbrella.

"...I'll take that as a yes," he said, looking down at one of the many gravestones decorating the yard, the charcoal-grey color looked oddly calm and peaceful.

He closed his umbrella as he walked himself out and into the same alley that led to his house, a peek of sunlight had him looking up the sky.

"Well, it will rain again anyway," he said, "it always does."

He then disappeared into the inner corner of the dark-grey alley.


End file.
